


Name

by maurheti



Category: Southland
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 04:22:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maurheti/pseuds/maurheti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coda to S1E2 ("Mozambique"). John likes Ben's bike. And then sex. As you do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Name

“A motorcycle? Jesus.” Cooper’s voice has a smile in it, and Ben lowers the helmet he was about to put on, senses on high alert as always when Cooper’s around.

“Yeah,” he answers, shifting around on the seat to face Cooper. He should just say goodnight and ride away. He was already exhausted from trying to keep it together, from not showing what he’s feeling. But then this evening Cooper had asked, and he told him a little about what had happened when he was ten. He hasn’t really told anyone but his shrink, but Cooper asked. Ben didn’t even care that Chickie could hear. He feels like he’s crossed a line, and now exhausted does not even begin to describe the state he’s in.

“A motorcycle.” 

Ben shrugs. “Easier to get around traffic.” He should really leave. Now. He should leave now.

“Money sure does buy the nice toys,” Cooper says, looking over the bike appraisingly, then looking over Ben the same way. 

Ben’s mouth goes dry. Shit. “Want a ride?” He blames the exhaustion. Obviously it’s made him stupid.

“A _ride_? What am I, a fucking preschooler at the merry-go-round? Get off the damned bike, Sherman.” 

Shit. Ben gets off the bike, and Cooper swings his leg over and settles in, stroking the tank appreciatively, which does nothing good to Ben’s blood pressure. 

“Got an extra one of those?” Cooper asks, gesturing at the helmet Ben is gripping so hard he’s afraid he’s going to leave dents. 

Ben nods and retrieves it from the pannier. 

And this is how he finds himself on his own motorcycle, tucked up against Cooper’s back, his hands at Cooper’s waist, the inside of his thighs touching... He needs to stop thinking about what the insides of his thighs are touching right fucking now. In fact, he needs to stop thinking about “touching” and “Cooper” in the same sentence altogether, although really that’s what he’s wanted to do from the moment Cooper walked into the room and introduced himself. Christ. 

Ben closes his eyes and tries to focus on keeping all the blood in his body from rushing to his dick. The fact that the vibrations of the bike and the aggressive way Cooper is taking corners is pushing them closer together becomes more obvious with his eyes closed, however, so he opens them again. “Where are we going?” To his surprise, it actually comes out sounding pretty normal, even though he has to shout over the noise of the engine and the wind. 

“My place,” Cooper throws the answer over his shoulder as he breaks for a red light.

What...? This is so not the answer Ben is expecting. A cruise around the streets to try out the bike, sure, maybe stop for another beer somewhere, fine, but Cooper’s place? “Why?”

“Why? Your dick has been hard for me ever since I shook your hand your first day, and you ask _why_? Jesus fucking Christ, Sherman. I’m taking you to my place to fuck you.” 

Ben stops breathing for a moment, adrenaline spiking through his body, his dick so hard right now it hurts. 

How the fuck does Cooper know? He’s been so fucking careful, concentrating on not saying anything that might be misconstrued. Jesus, he hasn’t said hardly anything at all just to make sure he doesn’t give away the fact that he has a totally inappropriate response to the man who is his supervisor. He doesn’t even call him by his first name, because “John” is what he calls him when he’s jerking off in the shower. 

He is a cop. He can’t imagine being anything else. He does not want to fuck this up, but then Cooper... Cooper knows. He knows, and he wants to... Cooper is taking him home to... _Christ_.

“What, nothing to say, rookie?” Ben can feel Cooper laughing. Shit. He closes his eyes again. 

 

*** * ***

 

Cooper turns the engine off. Ben opens his eyes and gets off the bike. He takes off his helmet, concentrating on putting it away. He’s carefully not looking at Cooper’s house. Fine, at Cooper. Cooper's back. The lower part of Cooper's -- Okay. He needs to get a grip. Cooper walks up to his front door and opens it, dropping his helmet inside. 

“Come on, Sherman. Inside.” 

Is this even really happening? Because this is all sorts of bad idea. Ben’s dick is still in complete agreement with the planned program, however. Shit. “Ben,” he says, and looks up at Cooper leaning on the doorframe, holding the security door open with one hand. 

Cooper raises his eyebrows. 

“If you’re going to fuck me, you should call me Ben.”

Cooper grins. “He speaks in full sentences. Progress. Inside,” he repeats, and moves to one side. 

Ben takes a breath and walks past Cooper into the house. There’s a light on in the short hallway, but he gets only a brief impression of it and an arched entry into the living room before he gets pushed up against a wall and stripped out of his jacket. 

“Anything else to say, _Ben_?” Cooper is still grinning, one hand wrapped around Ben’s shoulder, thumb stroking his collarbone through his t-shirt, the other positioned on the wall next to Ben’s head.

Ben blinks. Bad idea or not, this is apparently happening. It still feels completely unreal. This was supposed to only be real safely inside his head. Cooper is his training officer, for fuck’s sake. 

“Last chance to back out,” Cooper whispers, his hand moving up and cupping the back of Ben’s neck. 

Ben can feel Cooper’s breath steal across his jaw. He shouldn’t do this. He is not doing this. _Shit_. He licks his lips. “Not backing out,” he answers, and slides his hands up inside Cooper’s shirt, skimming his ribs and curving around to his back, trying to pull him closer. Cooper’s skin feels superheated, and Ben can feel the muscles tensing as he glides over them. Holy fucking god. His cock jerks.

Cooper’s breath hitches. He shifts his weight forward, and then he is biting at Ben’s lower lip and slowly, thoroughly, working his way into his mouth, deepening the kiss until Ben moans and has to grab hold of the inside of Cooper’s shirt to keep himself upright. He really needs to stop letting Cooper short-circuit his brain. 

But then Cooper pushes his whole body into Ben’s, slotting Ben up against him so that he can feel the hard bulge of Cooper’s cock against him, and rocking forward until the friction against his own dick is almost enough to make him come right then. So much for not letting Cooper do whatever the hell he wants.

Cooper breaks the kiss and laughs softly. “God, you’re easy.” Cooper bends back down, Ben meeting him halfway this time. There is nothing slow about this kiss: it’s urgent and aggressive, and when Cooper moans into Ben’s mouth, Ben almost loses it again. Jesus. He really is easy.

“I think you’re right,” Ben manages to say when Cooper starts pushing him down the hallway, past the living room and into... Thank you, God. Ben knocks god-knows-what off of a dresser as he backs into it while trying to push Cooper onto the bed. It’s like trying to push a mountain. 

“What, this comes as a surprise to you? I’m your fucking training officer, I’m always right.”

“Fuck you.” 

“Yeah? Maybe later.” 

Ben huffs out a laugh, which turns into an “oh, fuck, yeah” when Cooper runs his fingers down the zipper of his pants. He blinks when Cooper steps away from him and crosses his arms. What the fuck?

“Strip.” Cooper’s face is half in shadow, but his eyes catch the ambient light that’s coming in from the hallway, and Ben swallows at the challenge and the heat he can see. 

It’s the heat that finally makes Ben’s brain catch up. He’s here. With Cooper. This, he does not need any kind of training in.

“That’s how we’re playing this?” Ben pulls his t-shirt over his head and drops it on the floor as he toes off his shoes and socks. 

Cooper raises his eyebrows. “You think we’re playing?” 

“I don’t know, you tell me.” Ben slowly pushes his pants down his hips, then carefully lifts the elastic of his boxer briefs over his erection and slides them down, too, kicking everything off. “You’re the one with all your clothes still on.” Cooper has gone very still. Ben wraps his hand around his cock and starts a stroke up. “For someone who said he’s going to fuck me...” He shrugs his shoulders, moves his hand back down his cock, setting up a slow rhythm. 

“On the bed. Now.” Cooper still hasn’t moved, but Ben can see that his forearms are so tense the muscles are standing out in sharp relief in the shadowy light. _Yes_. 

“Am I getting to you, Boo?” Ben throws over his shoulder as he moves to the bed. 

Cooper snorts. “Fuck you, Ben.”

“Yeah? Better take your clothes off, in that case.” He climbs on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows. 

Cooper shakes his head, a half-smile on his face as he walks forward, unbuttoning his shirt, heat still flaring in his eyes as he looks down at Ben. “I’m not playing.” The shirt makes a soft sound as it slides down Cooper’s body onto the floor, followed by pants and boxers. Cooper bends down to pull off his shoes and socks. 

Ben almost stops breathing when Cooper comes back up. Cooper backlit and naked is quite possibly the hottest thing he has ever seen in his life. He looks bigger without clothes, massive and solid, all pale skin and slabbed muscle, the weight of his dick pulling it away slightly from his stomach. 

He doesn’t get long to admire, though, because Cooper is sliding onto the bed, making his way up Ben’s inner thigh with sharp nips of lips and teeth. Ben moans, and tries to lift his hips up, wanting Cooper’s mouth, his hands, his _any_ thing, on his dick. Or his mouth on Cooper’s dick. Either way is fine with him.

“Impatient,” Cooper scolds, backing away, holding Ben’s hips down, then splaying a hand on his chest when he tries to lever himself up.

“Didn’t take you for a cocktease.” 

Cooper laughs. “This from the man who almost creamed himself when he shook my hand the first day and then looked at me every day after that with eyes that said ‘fuck me’ but didn’t do anything about it?” He reaches over to the nightstand, half-balancing on Ben’s chest, and opens the drawer, throwing lube and a condom onto the bed. “Is that how it works in Beverly Hills? Because if so, I’m amazed you ever get laid at all.” 

Cooper’s hand starts tracing leisurely circles around Ben’s nipples. It’s distracting. “I didn’t... I don’t...” Wait. No. “It worked with you.” 

“Huh,” Cooper says. “Good point.” His hand moves lower, and Ben stays absolutely still. He can feel his dick leaking onto his stomach. 

When Cooper finally, _finally_ wraps his hand around Ben’s cock, it feels so good it makes his eyes roll back into his head. He needs to think about something else, something other than the slow, measured strokes Cooper is using, and that _flick_ he does with his wrist when he reaches the head, holy God. 

He looks over at Cooper, but that’s a mistake, too. Cooper is looking right at him, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched, not nearly as calm as those slow strokes would indicate. 

Distraction. Right. “Wh- Why did you take me home with you?” He finally manages. It’s not quite the right question, but he can’t... focus. Cooper removes his hand. Ben tries to get it back, but Cooper grabs his wrist.

“I thought we covered this already,” Cooper answers, leaning in to Ben and rolling him over onto his stomach. “Your interrogation skills are for shit. What the fuck are they teaching kids nowadays at the Academy?” He settles himself behind Ben and pulls him up onto his elbows and knees.

What the fuck are they... Right, that’s the question he should be asking. “Why do you want to fuck me?” 

Cooper grabs the lube. “I need a reason?” Feeling Cooper’s slicked up fingers tracing down the cleft of his ass almost makes Ben levitate off the bed. “You want me to stop?” 

“Jesus...Christ... No.” 

“Yeah, didn’t think so.” Cooper stills his hand, adds more lube, then carefully presses _in_. 

Ben tries to breathe as Cooper’s fingers slowly, slowly open him up. 

“So fucking tight.” Cooper’s voice sounds raw. Ben glances over his shoulder. Cooper’s face is flushed, eyes hooded, totally focused. 

Ben swallows a moan and pushes himself back onto Cooper’s fingers. “Need you to fuck me,” he manages. 

Cooper exhales, and Ben hears the familiar sound of foil ripping. Cooper removes his fingers, but almost before Ben can react to that, the head of Cooper’s cock is at his entrance. Jesus God. Ben shuts his eyes and breathes in, then out, and Cooper unhurriedly starts working his way in, hands on Ben’s hips, stopping every time Ben tenses up. 

Ben can hear himself starting to make inarticulate noises, and Cooper runs one hand up and down his side and his ass in slow patterns, his voice a soothing rumble, although Ben can’t concentrate on what he’s actually saying.

When Cooper is all the way inside, he stops, and Ben manages to open his eyes long enough to glance over his shoulder again. Okay, _this_ is the hottest thing Ben has ever seen in his life: Cooper backlit and naked, damp with sweat, cock buried balls-deep in his ass, pulse point jumping in his neck, jaw clenched, trying to hold it together. Ben automatically pushes back, his cock jerking. 

Cooper’s fingers grip his hips hard enough to leave bruises. “Stop. Moving.” 

“No touching... no moving... you really _are_ a cocktease,” Ben grunts out.

“Like you care,” Cooper answers, back in control again. He pulls out and pushes back in, changing the angle just slightly with each stroke, until all of a sudden it feels so mind-blowingly perfect, Ben can’t even move. 

“ _Fuck_ , please...” Cooper moves his hand down and wraps it around Ben’s cock, one stroke, two... God, fuck, it’s too much, he can’t...

“ _John_...” Ben comes so hard it feels like his entire spine is melting, vision and hearing shorting out in a rush of lit up nerves. Cooper keeps thrusting into him, which makes Ben jerk and shake in sensory overload. One more long glide in, and Cooper’s cock pulses in his ass, which, holy shit, if he hadn’t just come would make him hard again. His brain checks out.

Hearing comes back first. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Cooper sounds completely out of breath, hands on Ben’s hips the only thing holding him up. He pulls out slowly, making both of them inhale sharply. 

Ben rests his forehead on his hands, not able to move yet. He hears Cooper roll off the bed, twitches at a gentle cleaning swipe with a towel, and then Cooper is pushing him over onto his side, away from the wet spot, before crawling back on the bed. 

Ben looks at Cooper flung out next to him, completely boneless. He knows the feeling. Cooper’s eyes are closed, and there’s a smirk on his face. Ben takes a breath. “Seriously, though, why?” 

“Why what?”

“Why... this.” Ben runs his hand down John’s stomach, ending at his dick. It’s too much too soon, he knows, but he does it anyway, gentling his touch when Cooper flinches and groans. He doesn’t move Ben’s hand away, though, which... Ben swallows. 

Cooper turns his head to look at Ben. “Just wanted to see what it would take to make you say my name,” Cooper finally answers.


End file.
